


The Researcher

by marzipanwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Build, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzipanwrites/pseuds/marzipanwrites
Summary: Y/N might live with the Winchesters, but they don't have the same hunting life. No, that's never been quite their style -- instead, they prefer to stay back, hit the books, and help from afar. Something they never thought would intrigue the King of Hell himself.
Relationships: Crowley (Supernatural) & You, Crowley (Supernatural)/Reader, Crowley (Supernatural)/You
Comments: 29
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> QUICK AN: The reader in this fic is portrayed as non-binary and throughout the story referred to using they/them pronouns. However, them being non-binary at all is only brought up once in the story, and as such I hope that readers of any gender and pronouns will be able to enjoy this story. Thanks, and I hope you all enjoy! :)

Candlelight flickered across the dimly lit library of the bunker. Standing at a table, on which was placed various objects -- a bowl of herbs, a piece of chalk, and a few burning sticks of incense -- were two men. One held a thick leather-bound book, the cover worn from years of use. He read from the book as the other man looked on, arms folded.  
  
“Et ad congregandum, eos coram me.” The man finished reading in the ancient language, swiftly closing the book and looking up expectantly. There was only a moment of silent pause before a presence joined them in the room. The air became stuffy and charged with static electricity, the candles flickered in unison, and the temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees.  
  
The cause of the sudden disturbance had appeared at the other side of the table, clad in a black three-piece suit. He had a short salt and pepper beard and polished shoes. “Hello, boys,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
The man with folded arms replied. “We need to ask you about some demon activity over in Stockton.”  
  
The newcomer sighed. “Of course you do. You do know you can just call me, right? There’s no need for this whole mess.” He gestured towards the table. “We could actually schedule for once, rather than just leave fate to decide whether you’re pulling me out of an important meeting or not.”  
  
The other man set the book down on the table. “We don’t need any of your snark right now, Crowley. What we need is--”  
  
He was cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing in the bunker, the noise accompanied by a voice. The disturbance came from behind the newcomer, causing him to turn around and for the attention of all three men to veer from the topic at hand.  
  
“God, the windchill out there is just awful,” The voice came, paired with the clamor of feet coming down the staircase from the main entrance to the bunker. Soon the source of the words came into view, standing at the top of the small flight of stairs leading down to the library. “Sam, I thought you said it was supposed to be nice…” The person paused, looking down at the scene before them, eyes lingering on the darkly-clothed man before their confused gaze turned to the two others. “I didn’t know we were having company.”  
  
After an exchanged glance, the man who had just set down the tome strode around the table towards them. They walked down the stairs, just reaching the bottom as he carefully grabbed their arm and pulled them away from the newcomer, earning a perplexed glare.  
  
“What are you--” They began.  
  
“I thought you were going out on your walk,” The man whispered, brow furrowed.  
  
“I was, but -- well, like I said when I came in, the windchill was…” They took a moment to reorient. “Sam, what’s going on?”  
  
“Ahem.” They turned back to face the mystery man, who had just cleared his throat. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He began to move towards them. “I--”  
  
The man with folded arms interrupted. “Don’t take another step.”  
  
He merely smirked. “Really, Dean. I’m not going to bite.” He turned his attention back to the stranger. “Not unless they want me to, at least.”  
  
Despite Sam’s tightened grip on their arm, he was quickly shaken off as the person took a cautious step towards the strange man. Though their brows were knitted, they seemed unbothered by his blatant innuendo. “How did you know my pronouns?”  
  
He seemed a little taken off-guard by their question, though clearly pleased at their approach. “It’s a demon thing, darling. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
They paused, standing very still, mouth opened slightly. Quickly their eyes scanned over the table, taking in the sigil drawn onto the wood, before returning their focus to the “man” standing in front of them. They gulped. “Right.”  
  
He smirked, putting out a hand. “Crowley, King of Hell, at your service.”  
  
Hesitating momentarily, they put their hand in his. “Y/N.” Expecting a handshake, they blinked in surprise when the demon lifted their hand to his mouth and laid a light kiss on their knuckles.  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” He said, still smiling.  
  
“Oh, um. You too,” Y/N replied, face hot.  
  
“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Dean jumped in, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were going. Crowley released Y/N’s hand, letting them retreat slightly. “We didn’t summon you here to make pleasantries.”  
  
“Ah, yes. Those rogue demons you mentioned.” Crowley said. “Care to elaborate on what exactly is so ‘rogue’ about them?”  
  
“Tale as old as time,” Dean replied, unfolding his arms to rest his palms on the table. “Crossroad demons get greedy, start taking the souls of their victims long before they’re due. What do you know about this?”  
  
Crowley sighed. “Nothing at all, Squirrel.”  
  
“They said they were acting under you,” Y/N said.  
  
The demon turned a little to face them, cocking his head and fixing them in his gaze. “Are you calling me a liar, darling?”  
  
Y/N’s frown deepened. “No, I just… Well, I just figured that if I were in your shoes, and there were demons claiming to be mine and doing things that go against my principles as a leader… Well, I don’t know, I’d be kinda pissed, I guess.”  
  
Crowley didn’t break eye contact with them, staring them down. Y/N blinked back at him, expression innocent. After a few seconds, the demon straightened up slightly. “I suppose that I can see where you’re coming from.” He returned his focus to Sam and Dean, who had been watching the interaction with concern. “Well. What is it you want from me, help with the hunt? I can check my calendar if you’ve got a date.”  
  
“There’s no date yet, we don’t have enough information on the demons involved. We were hoping you’d be oh-so-kind as to provide a few helpful particulars.” Dean said, a mock smile growing on his face.  
  
“I can go get the list of names we have so far,” Y/N cut in, seeming to notice the growing hostility. After a quick nod from Sam, they turned and went deeper into the library, soon hidden in the stacks.  
  
“You didn’t tell me you recruited another hunter,” Crowley said quietly, glaring at the two men. “If we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know about that kind of stuff.”  
  
“What are you, our boss?” Dean replied.  
  
“Hey, you don’t need to worry about them, okay?” Sam said. “They’re not even a hunter really, more of the researching type.”  
  
Crowley opened his mouth to respond when Y/N returned, holding an open notebook which they set down on the table near him.  
  
“Here -- there’s not a lot, but it’s what we have so far.” They said, pointing at where four names were written in neat handwriting. The demon closed the distance between them, positioning himself so that he was looking over their shoulder, chest nearly touching their back. If Y/N at all noticed or was bothered by his proximity, it didn’t show.  
  
“I can work with those,” Crowley said after a couple seconds of looking down at the paper. He stepped away slightly. “Thank you, kitten.” He quickly continued before anyone could respond to the nickname. “Is that all?”  
  
The three hunters exchanged looks. “I mean,” Y/N said. “Unless you have any suggestions.” When Crowley’s only response was to tilt his head slightly, they continued nervously. “Just off the top of your head, I mean. Not to be rude. I know we called you, so it’s no problem if you don’t--”  
  
“Check the crossroads in Stockton for any evidence of spellwork. I want to know how the traitors are redirecting the rituals so that they’re being called upon rather than my own crossroad demons.” He said, looking pointedly at Sam and Dean. “Call me when you get any leads.”  
  
The two nodded, and with another flickering of the candles, the demon king was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go off on a hunt, leaving Y/N by themselves in the bunker. But are they really alone after all?

“Hello, boys.”  
  
Sam and Dean turned to see Crowley standing a few feet away. They were both mid-packing, preparing for the hunt ahead of them. “Crowley,” Dean greeted.  
  
“We’ll be leaving in just a minute. Here’s the address,” Sam said, walking over to the demon and handing him a slip of paper.  
  
“Wonderful,” He said, glancing over the hastily jotted-down words before slipping the note into his breast pocket. “Have any sort of game plan?”  
  
“We go in there, and we end their operation,” Dean replied, looking over to Crowley while casually flipping his demon knife. “Permanently.” Crowley, however, seemed a bit distracted, looking around the library, even going so far as to take a few steps towards the crow’s nest. Dean frowned, slipping the knife into its holster. “Crowley?”  
  
He turned, expression blank. “Hm?”  
  
“We’re all set to go,” Sam said, hoisting a bag of supplies over his shoulder. “Are you coming with us, or..?”  
  
“Oh. No, I’ll go on ahead, scout the place out.” Crowley responded, eyes still scanning the room. Finally he returned the gazes of the two confused hunters. “See you there.”  
  
After the demon had vanished, Sam and Dean looked at each other in mutual confusion. Soon enough, though, they simply shrugged it off and went on their way, unaware that Crowley hadn’t moved an inch.

~ ~ ~

Y/N sat in their bedroom, seated at a small desk with music flowing through their earbuds. Ever since their first encounter with the demon known as Crowley, Sam and Dean had been adamant that there would be as little contact as possible between the two of them. As such, they were instructed to remain sequestered in their bedroom as the two men prepared for the hunt. Left to their own devices, they were hunched over a few sheets of paper on their desk, a pencil in hand. However, the view of the concrete wall of the room was getting quite boring. Checking the time on their phone, Y/N got up, pausing their music and opening the bedroom door. They paused, taking out their earbuds and listening intently. Nothing.  
  
Satisfied that the boys must have already left, Crowley no doubt in tow, they put their earbuds back in and unpaused the music. Retreating back inside their room only to gather up their drawing supplies and emptied glass of water, they soon left the safety of their chambers. However, as they continued through the halls of the bunker, Y/N got the feeling that they weren’t alone, and this feeling only grew as they neared the library. They frowned and put it down to anxiety.  
  
They hesitated at the doorway; however, seeing no-one, they continued inside, plopping down their materials and taking a seat at one of the tables. They didn’t hear Crowley saying their name until his hand clasped around their shoulder. Y/N let out a soft cry, twisting their body to both remove his hand as well as to face the demon. Clumsily, they once more stopped the music and removed their earbuds. “Christ, Crowley, you scared me,” They said, a blush creeping onto their cheeks.  
  
“Sorry,” He said as he looked down at them, not appearing sorry in the slightest. “But you really shouldn’t be using earbuds with the boys gone. All alone in this big bunker -- there’s no telling what kind of scary monsters could creep in and catch you unaware.”  
  
Y/N laughed, half out of nerves. “Well, I don’t know. You’re the King of Hell, Crowley, you’re kind of already the scariest monster out there.”  
  
Crowley smiled, putting his hand on the desk to their right and leaning down towards them. “You think I’m scary?” He asked quietly, maintaining eye contact.  
  
“Well, I, uh…” They paused, noticing the heat of their cheeks. They turned away from him slightly, gaze darting around the various items on the desk. “So, why are you -- uhm…” The demon didn’t move, merely watching their nervous conduct. Y/N swallowed, took a moment, and finally looked back up at him. “I thought you’d have left with Sam and Dean?”  
  
He leant back slightly. “Well, I saw that you weren’t there to see us off, so I decided to wait around and see if you’d eventually emerge.”  
  
“Oh.” They said, eyes still wide from Crowley’s earlier proximity.  
  
“Oh.” He mocked, pitching his voice a little higher than usual. When Y/N’s expression melted into hurt, he sighed. “I’m teasing you, love.”  
  
They didn’t say anything, just smiled a little and lowered their gaze. This time, Crowley followed it to the sketches on the table.  
  
“Did you draw these?” The demon asked, removing his hand from the desk to swiftly pick up the paper, straightening up as he did so.  
  
“Oh, um… yeah,” Y/N replied, watching him inspect their work. They found themselves subconsciously wringing their hands in their lap.  
  
There was a moment of quiet as Crowley’s gaze flitted over the page, taking in the illustrations of flowers and trees. “These are fantastic, kitten,” He finally said, flipping over the paper only to reveal more sketches. “They should be in an art gallery.”  
  
“Oh, uh, thank you,” Y/N said, trying their hardest not to sound half as flustered as they really were. “That means a lot to me.”  
  
After a few more seconds of consideration, Crowley returned the paper to the table, catching Y/N’s eye as he did so. He furrowed his brow slightly and tilted his head, putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Darling… How the hell did you end up with Sam and Dean?”  
  
Y/N didn’t immediately respond, looking past him at the stacks of the library, before finally shifting their gaze down to their hands. They forced them to be still as they considered how exactly to answer the demon’s question. The seconds rushed by as they tried to come up with a good answer, but Y/N found that their thoughts had run dry. “It’s a long story,” They eventually muttered.  
  
Only more silence ensued as Crowley continued to watch the strange human who sat before him. They wouldn’t meet his gaze, and he soon realized that it was only a matter of minutes until the boys arrived in Stockton and began to wonder where he was. Sighing heavily, he let his head drop slightly. “Unfortunately, you’ll have to tell me another time.” Finally they looked back at him, causing him to raise his eyebrows and elaborate. “Sam and Dean’ll be waiting for me.”  
  
They nodded, and he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley pops by at breakfast to give the boys some follow-up information.

The bunker was pleasantly quiet in the early hours of the morning, and despite the unpredictable nature of the hunting lifestyle, the three inhabitants of the building found that over time, they had fallen easily into a morning routine. At around five in the morning Sam, ever the early bird, would wake up and brew enough coffee for two people before having a healthy breakfast of puffed rice cakes with peanut butter. At closer to seven thirty, long after Sam had left in favor of the library, Y/N would make their way to the kitchen, reheat what was left of the coffee, and pop two Eggo waffles into the toaster. Once they were ready, they’d promptly leave to return to their own room and eat in peace and quiet. Between eight thirty and nine Dean would stumble out of bed, and slowly but surely cook up his own bacon, eggs, and cup of joe, which he’d eat in the kitchen while watching whatever caught his eye on the small television overlooking the room.  
  
It was on such a morning as this that Y/N found themselves thinking of the King of Hell. They had just put the waffles in the toaster and were sipping their coffee contemplatively as they stood at the kitchen counter. It had been a few days since Sam and Dean’s big demon hunt -- or, more notably, since Crowley had come to visit Y/N in the library of the bunker -- and Y/N found that the demon lingered in their thoughts.  
  
“Hello? Boys?”  
  
Y/N paused at the voice, taking a moment to realize that it came from somewhere past the kitchen door. Speak of the Devil, they thought. “Uh, in here,” They called out tentatively, setting their mug down on the counter. They heard footsteps, and soon enough the demon king himself strolled into the kitchen.  
  
“Hello, darling,” Crowley greeted, impeccably dressed as usual. Y/N felt a little embarrassed with their bedhead and pyjamas, which were comprised of a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.  
  
“Hi,” They said. “Uh, what’s up?”  
  
“Just looking for Sam and Dean. Are they up yet?”  
  
“Sam is. He’s in the library, I think.”  
  
He hummed in response, continuing his exploration of the room. Finally, his eyes alighted upon the toaster. “What’s cooking?”  
  
“Oh, just some waffles,” Y/N said. “What, um…” They took a moment to run their fingers through their hair, before meeting Crowley’s gaze. “What do you need to see the boys about?”  
  
“Nothing interesting,” He replied, taking another few steps towards them. “Just some follow-up information regarding the traitors. It can wait until they’re both more or less conscious.”  
  
Y/N laughed a little, picking up their coffee and taking another sip. Crowley took the moment to glance over their bare arm, frowning when he noticed the goosebumps that adorned their flesh.  
  
“Darling, you’re cold,” He pointed out. “Don’t you have a robe or anything you can wear?”  
  
“I did,” Y/N replied, lowering their beverage. “There was a, uh, laundry mishap, though. We had to throw it out.” They shrugged. “I don’t know, I just haven’t gotten the chance to get a new one. It’s no biggie, though.” They took another sip before putting the coffee down once more.  
  
Crowley nodded. They stood there for a few more seconds, neither saying anything or looking at the other, until the tell-tale ding of the toaster rang out. Y/N moved to where it sat, Crowley following a few steps behind. “Well, I’ve got to dash. Hell can’t run itself, you know?”  
  
Y/N looked over their shoulder at him. “Alright. Do you want me to tell Sam you stopped by, or…?”  
  
“No, that’s alright, kitten.” Y/N smiled, returning their focus to the toaster. They were surprised when Crowley cleared his throat again, prompting them to turn more fully to face him. “You look nice in those sweatpants, by the way.”  
  
Y/N blinked at him. “Oh,” They started, already feeling a blush starting on their cheeks. “Thanks. You, um…” They gestured vaguely. “You look nice in that suit.”  
  
The demon smiled. “Until next time.” And then he was gone.

~ ~ ~

Having had spent more time than they would have liked staring at the spot where Crowley was standing before his disappearance, Y/N vowed that when they returned to their bedroom, breakfast in their hands, they’d push all thoughts of the demon out of their mind. They’d put on some music, finish reading that book, and forget all about him, if only for a few moments.  
  
However, these hopes quickly vanished when Y/N saw the fluffy, black and red bathrobe splayed out across their bed.  
  
After setting their food and drink down on their desk, they carefully approached the clothing item, as if it might jump out and bite them. Thankfully, though, it did not, and they were able to pick it up with ease. Y/N smiled as they did so, and, feeling the soft material under their fingers, they quickly put it on. Enveloped in the comfort it brought them, it took a moment for them to notice the faint scent of cologne and whiskey which emanated from the fabric. When they did, though, it only made them smile all the more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley becomes fed up with the Winchesters.

“Finally figured out how to work a phone, boys?”  
  
Sam and Dean turned to see Crowley standing a few feet away, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his ringing cell phone in the other. He looked at Sam pointedly, prompting him to end his call to Crowley, an almost sheepish look on his face.  
  
“We need information.” Dean said, folding his arms and leaning against the table behind him.  
  
Crowley sighed and slipped his phone into his trouser pocket. “Of course you do. Y/N is your researcher, aren’t they? Maybe you should ask them for assistance once in a while. You know, I suspect they know more than you give them credit for.”  
  
“That’s why we called, Crowley. They haven’t been able to find anything.” Sam replied. “What do you know about Abaddon?”  
  
The demon paused at that, gaze becoming more serious as he looked at the two hunters before him. “Why the hell do you need to know about her?”  
  
“Just answer the question, Crowley. What do you know?” Dean asked, voice raising.  
  
“No, you don’t just get to ask me questions without giving anything in return,” Crowley snapped, taking a step towards Dean. “What suddenly makes Abaddon so relevant?”  
  
“We may have run into her,” Sam replied, raising his hands slightly. “It’s alright, she’s not going to be a problem anymore. We just want to--”  
  
“You ‘may have ran into her’. Abaddon. Incredibly dangerous. A possible threat to the entirety of the system I have taken years to put into place in Hell. And you…” Crowley, becoming increasingly more aggravated, took a moment to stop and reorder his thoughts. “When exactly was this little altercation of yours?”  
  
Sam and Dean exchanged a sideways glance. “A week or so ago,” Sam finally answered.  
  
“A--” Crowley threw his hands in the air, turning away from the boys for a moment before immediately swiveling back to them, approaching them with quick steps. “I leave you to your own devices for no more than half a month and you cross paths with one of the most dangerous demons out there, and then don’t tell me? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?”  
  
The demon king was now inches away from Sam, an accusatory finger pointed in his face. Dean shoved himself between the two of them, forcing Crowley to back up. “We said she wasn’t going to be a problem anymore. Or were you too caught up in worrying about your own sorry ass that you didn’t hear? Besides, you can’t expect us to--”  
  
Like a bomb going off, Crowley suddenly flung out one of his arms, causing a chair to lift from the ground and slam against the wall. The crash as it splintered against the wall reverberated through the bunker, causing Sam and Dean to tense slightly. They only grew more on edge as their focus shifted from the ruined piece of furniture to the man before them. His eyes were pure red with anger, and the entire atmosphere of the room had suddenly become thick with static electricity. The demon’s voice was unnervingly steady as he spoke. “I can’t expect you to what, Winchester? To shoot me a text every now and again? To be courteous for once?” Crowley chuckled darkly, lowering his head slightly. He opened his mouth to continue, when a quiet voice interrupted him.  
  
“Crowley?”  
  
The three men turned to the main entrance to the library. Y/N stood there, staying close to the doorframe, gaze darting around the room nervously. Their brow furrowed slightly when they met Crowley’s eyes, which were still very much demonic. They gulped. “What’s going on?”  
  
The demon straightened up slightly, and with a blink his eyes returned to their normal state. “Nothing you have to worry about, darling.” He replied, giving them a small smile. “Why don’t you go back to your room, hm? Do some more drawing, or…” He trailed off as Y/N continued to stare at him.  
  
“No, that’s all right. I think I’ll stay here,” They said, slowly walking into the room. They stopped once they were at just about the midpoint between the doorway, the boys, and Crowley.  
  
He simply nodded, breaking off eye contact with them. For a few moments no one said anything, until finally, Sam spoke up. “We really do have this under control, alright, Crowley? We just need to know how to get rid of her permanently. Can you help us out?”  
  
The demon fixed his gaze somewhere past the hunters, face blank. It seemed an eternity before he answered.  
  
“No, I can’t say I can.” He said, raising his head a little. He let out a breath, expression hardening. “You just don’t get it, do you?”  
  
Before any of them could respond, he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N takes initiative.

It was much later in the evening when Y/N began to conduct their little plan. After Crowley’s sudden departure, the rest of the day had been fairly tense. Only a few words were exchanged at dinner, after which Sam and Dean almost immediately split off to their own rooms. Though this was disheartening to see, it meant that the scheme which Y/N had been concocting all afternoon would run just that much smoother. It started with them hanging around in the library for a bit, giving the two men time to settle down. Once it seemed like they were both set to stay in their rooms for the rest of the night, Y/N made their way to the main landline of the bunker, where all the important numbers were written down on a few loose leaf papers attached to a clipboard which sat next to the phone. Scanning over the names, it didn’t take long for Y/N to find the one they were looking for and jot it into their own mobile. A smile crept onto their face when they saw what it was -- after all, one has to wonder how on earth someone would even get ahold of the number “666”.  
  
With step one complete, Y/N followed Sam and Dean’s lead in retiring to their own bedroom. After a few minutes of preparation, a mix of planning out what they’d say and reassuring themselves that this was, in fact, something that they wanted to do, Y/N finally hit “call”.  
  
They paced the room as the phone rang, getting more nervous with each passing second. In nearly no time at all Y/N was regretting their course of action, suddenly hoping that Crowley simply wouldn’t pick up an unknown number, a possibility which seemed to grow in likelihood with each uninterrupted ring. However, before the call could time out, this wish was shattered.  
  
“Hello, Crowley speaking.” Y/N jumped at his voice, pausing their nervous steps for a moment before resuming.  
  
“Hi,” They replied, voice sounding much more timid than they intended for it to.  
  
“Y/N?” They could almost see his brow furrow, head tilted in confusion.  
  
“Yeah, it’s me. I, uh… I was wondering if--” Y/N was cut off by the tell-tale click of being hung up on. They stopped dead in their tracks, pulling the phone away from their ear to look down at the screen. The disappointment was evident in the dark screen’s reflection of their face.  
  
“You wanted to talk?”  
  
Y/N turned around to see Crowley standing a few feet away from them. He appeared to have cooled off since their last interaction earlier that day, his hands comfortably in his pockets. “Oh, uh, yeah,” They replied, feeling a little embarrassed as they returned their phone to their back pocket. They really hadn’t expected for this conversation to happen face-to-face. “I just… I wanted to apologize. For earlier. We really should have told you about Abaddon, it just didn’t… seem that important, I guess. But I mean that’s no excuse, we should have anyways, since we’ve been working with you and--”  
  
“Don’t apologize for them, darling,” He cut in before they could continue. “Besides, I doubt that my being left in the dark was your decision.” He raised his eyebrows slightly, expression otherwise soft. Y/N, taken a little aback, simply nodded and looked down at the floor. “Is that all?”  
  
“Oh,” They said, gaze flickering back up to his. “Right. Well… I don’t really know how to say this more delicately. We really need your help with this.” They swallowed, having trouble maintaining his consistent eye contact. “When Sam said that we had this under control, he was right -- she’s neutralized, in a way. But, from the person who’s been hitting the books the hardest, uh…” They paused to laugh lightly. “We’ve really hit a dead end here.”  
  
Crowley took a moment to respond, still watching them intently. His expression was emotionless but for a hint of amusement. “You’re just repeating what the boys already told me, love. Why do you think I’m any more likely now to comply? Because it’s you?”  
  
“Uh,” Y/N stammered, fingers tapping lightly on their thigh as they formulated a reply. “No. No, I thought… I had in mind that maybe we could make a, uh…” Their sentence trailed off as they looked up at the demon standing before them. Was he closer than he had been a second ago?  
  
“A deal?” He said, a smile growing on his face as he finished their sentence.  
  
“I’m not -- nothing soul-related,” They clarified, frowning slightly.  
  
“No, of course not, kitten. What did you have in mind?”  
  
“I didn’t really think about that,” They admitted. “But I’m open to negotiation.”  
  
Crowley grinned at their attempt to conduct business with him. “Well, luckily enough for you, I’m in need of some assistance. Right up your alley, really,” As he said this, a manilla folder stuffed thickly with paper appeared in his hands. “This is a collection of information regarding a certain traitorous demon of mine. He’s gone AWOL, and whilst normally I’d just have one of my own underlings look through all this, we’ve got a bit of a soul crisis going on at the moment. You’re quite the note-taker, though, aren’t you?” He asked, handing them the folder. They took it, surprised by its weight.  
  
“Yeah,” They replied. “Wait, how’d you--”  
  
“Well, that’s just what I want you to do with all this. Look through it, take note of anything that strikes you as important; locations he frequents, aliases he’s been known to go by, etcetera etcetera. Standard work for a hunter like yourself, no?” He pet the folder lightly, looking awfully pleased with himself. “You can even do some personality analysis if you feel like it. You seem like the type to have fairly good insight.”  
  
“Thanks,” Y/N said, a little flustered by the sudden influx of instructions. With only a small amount of difficulty, they lay the folder on their desk with a quiet thud. When they turned back to the demon, his eyes hadn’t left them.  
  
“So it’s a deal?” He asked, beginning to walk towards them.  
  
“Wait!” They said suddenly, causing him to halt where he was. “We don’t mention this to Sam and Dean. I’ll do this research in private, and you can… I don’t know, give them some reason for helping them that seems logical.”  
  
“Didn’t think lying was your style,” He chuckled. “I suppose we’re more alike than I thought.” He gave them a once-over before smirking. “Shall we make this final?”  
  
Y/N felt themselves blush. They knew his history as a crossroads demon. “What--”  
  
He put out a hand. “By shaking on it, darling. In the way all business is concluded.”  
  
Frowning at his cocky attitude -- it was clear that he knew exactly what thought he had put in their head -- Y/N put their hand in his. Once they had shaken, though, he pulled them close with a surprising amount of strength. Before they could object, he lowered his head so that their cheeks were nearly touching.  
  
“I look forward to working with you, kitten,” Crowley whispered in their ear. He pulled away, smiling, and without giving Y/N time to process what had just happened, vanished.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley comes to collect.

Y/N let out a small exhale as the stream of hot water hit their skin. They smiled lightly, letting the shower run over their body for a minute or so before beginning to wash their skin. They needed this. Over the several days since they initially made their deal with Crowley, they had worked fervently to complete their end of the bargain. It became much easier once Sam and Dean had gone a few states away on a lead regarding the Knights of Hell, provided to them by the demon king himself. Though they had assured themselves the best they could that Crowley wouldn’t betray their confidence, Y/N had to admit that they had felt extremely relieved when Sam and Dean brought up Crowley’s sudden change in attitude with little to no suspicion at all. And when the two had set off to diligently follow his advice, Y/N had become all the more relaxed. Alone time in the bunker was always something Y/N was grateful for -- of course they enjoyed the boys’ company, but the high-stakes lifestyle always left them wanting to recharge. And, especially with the added stress of needing to work hard enough to please the King of Hell, a shower was certainly a good start to do just that.  
  
The longer their body soaked in the heat, the further Y/N’s defenses lowered. Normally, if Sam and Dean were about, they wouldn’t sing in the shower; the bunker may have been large, but sound traveled far. Maybe they’d hum a bit, but no full-blown belting. However, with the building all to themselves, they soon found themselves singing to their heart’s content as they lathered themselves with body soap and ran their fingers through their hair.  
  
In fact, Y/N had just finished singing one of their favorite songs at the moment, when a voice from the other side of the shower curtain broke the brief silence.  
  
“You know, I’d never have guessed that you were so multi-talented.”  
  
Y/N let out a small scream, jumping backwards in shock. Quickly they moved to the edge of the curtain, thankfully opaque, and made sure to pull it around their nude form before peeking out at the rest of the room.  
  
Leaning against the bathroom counter with the demeanor of someone who was perfectly at home in their current surroundings stood Crowley. He cocked his head slightly and raised his eyebrows at them. “You really do have a wonderful voice, darling.”  
  
“What the hell are you doing here?” They blurted out. He seemed only a little taken aback by their unusually angry tone.  
  
“Just checking in on my favorite human.” He replied coolly.  
  
Y/N glanced around the bathroom. “How long have you been here?”  
  
“Well, for a while I was just poking around in the other rooms of the bunker,” He said, taking a moment to adjust his footing. “I was making quite a bit of noise, you know. Moving chairs around and the like.” He smirked at them. “You know, for someone with such a dangerous occupation, you’d think that you’d be more aware of your surroundings. This is the second time I’ve caught you in a compromising situation. I could’ve easily killed you by now, if you weren’t the only reasonable member of your sorry troop.”  
  
“Well--” They paused, deciding to ignore his comment. “Why’d you have to come in? You could have just knocked.”  
  
“I wanted to hear your singing, kitten,” Crowley’s smile widened. “Was that a love song you just finished up with? I do wonder who you were singing about.”  
  
“So you came all the way down here to discuss my taste in music?”  
  
He sighed slightly, looking a little sheepish. “No. I came to see how your note-taking was going.”  
  
“I’ve made quite a bit of progress,” They replied, and, feeling more comfortable with this line of dialogue, ducked back behind the curtain to continue with their shower. “I’m almost done, really. I just need to organize and type up the notes.”  
  
“Wonderful. I take it the boys haven’t asked any questions?”  
  
“No, I don’t think they noticed,” Y/N said, rubbing shampoo into their scalp as they did so. “Is, um. Is that everything?”  
  
“Unless you need some help in there.”  
  
They stopped for a moment, turning to face Crowley despite the fact that they couldn’t see one another. “No.”  
  
He sighed, causing Y/N to smile a little at his dramatics. “Well, if you do end up needing my assistance, I’ll be waiting outside. And please, feel free to continue your serenade.”  
  
“Goodbye, Crowley.”  
  
“Goodbye.”  
  
They waited a few moments before checking to make sure that the demon really had left. Only once Y/N was sure that he had did they let a smile grow on their face, and begin to hum to themselves.

~ ~ ~

Y/N made sure not to dally too long in the shower -- after all, they did have demonic royalty waiting for them just outside the door. Once they’d sufficiently dried themselves off, they wrapped themselves in the bathrobe Crowley had given them and ventured out into the bunker.  
  
Looking around but not immediately seeing anyone, they walked to the end of the short hallway and peeked around the corner. “Crowley?” They called hesitantly.  
  
“Library!” Came the response, leading them down the longer corridor to the largest chamber of the building. Crowley stood by the table on which all their research lay, one of their pages of notes in hand. His expression turned playful when he saw them come in and make their way towards him. “You like the robe, I assume?”  
  
They smiled, nodding in confirmation as they reached the table. “I never got the chance to thank you for it.”  
  
“Oh, that’s no problem, kitten. Besides, I think seeing you wearing it is thanks enough.”  
  
Y/N shot him an only half-serious look of annoyance before turning their attention to the papers sprawled across the desk. “Well. Like I said earlier, there is still work to be done. I’ll probably be finished by--”  
  
“Nonsense, love. The notes are fine as they are.” Crowley interjected, sliding the papers into a neat pile.  
  
They furrowed their brow. “I… Are you sure? My handwriting really isn’t the best, especially since I didn’t think anyone but myself would be reading these.”  
  
“No, it’s quite alright. I’ve been around for roughly three hundred years; I imagine I can handle a few messy ‘t’s. Plus, I think the doodles add some nice charm to it,” He said, smirking and flipping a paper around to show Y/N the small drawings of crowns which were scattered around the margins of that page.  
  
Blushing slightly, they raised their brows and watched as Crowley continued to rearrange their notes, carefully placing them back into the manilla folder from which the research originated. “If you say so.”  
  
Much to Y/N’s relief, he didn’t push them for what exactly had been spinning around the subconscious of their mind that led them to tiredly scribble the crowns. Rather, the two of them were quiet as he finished packing everything into the folder. As soon as he’d finished, the file disappeared from his hand, no doubt landing on some desk in Hell. Their gaze met once more, prompting Crowley to lay a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.  
  
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” He said, expression soft.  
  
“The, uh--” They hesitated when he began to lightly massage them. “The feeling’s mutual.”  
  
He smiled down at them. “I’m glad to hear that.” With a slight squeeze of his hand on their flesh, he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N's first hunt doesn't exactly go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Quick content warning, this chapter contains descriptions of canon-typical violence and bloodshed!

Y/N tapped their foot nervously, glancing around the dimly lit forest. They had spent the past few days with Sam and Dean in a cheap motel in Jetmore, Kansas, not terribly far from the bunker. After getting news of some woodland murders in the area with the M.O. of your typical vengeful spirit, the boys had decided that it was time for Y/N to learn the basics of hunting. As such, they had tagged along with the so-called Agents Guldemond and Loewen, posing themselves as one Agent Parkin, and the three had traipsed around the town in search of clues. After a visit to the local library, it didn’t take long for Y/N to discover details on a man who disappeared in the woods several generations back and whose general description matched the witness statements they had taken just earlier that day -- long-haired, wizened, and known to be a troublemaker. Soon enough the hunters found themselves out in the forest in search of an unmarked grave or otherwise hidden skeleton, with no light to aid them but their own flashlights and the occasional glimmer of moonlight from behind the thick cloud cover which lay across the sky.  
  
And that was where Y/N stood, having walked around for what felt like hours with the boys and to no avail. The woods were expansive, and together they weren’t covering ground all too quickly. After a short discussion, it was decided that they’d split up; Dean going west and Sam and Y/N going east. Needless to say, Y/N was more on edge than they’d been in a long time. More than once that night they’d jumped at the simple hooting of an owl. These nerves are what they decided to chalk up the feeling that something wasn’t right to, that there was something in the woods that was more than just a cranky old ghost.  
  
Taking a moment’s pause from sweeping their flashlight over the ground in front of them, Y/N checked the time on their phone. “2:21” shone up at them from the screen, causing them to let out a sigh of frustration. They never did understand how Sam and Dean could stand all of the late nights -- or technically speaking, early mornings -- that hunting required.  
  
Just as they slipped the phone back into their pocket, a shout came from somewhere in the forest behind them. Y/N and Sam turned in tandem, pointing their lights the way they had come.  
  
“Dean,” Sam breathed. “He must be in trouble. Probably found the bones, and now the ghost’s pissed.” He started forwards, then stopped and looked at Y/N. “You, uh -- you just stay a little ways behind me, alright? Let me go on ahead. Don’t want you getting hurt.”  
  
“But you brought me along to…” They trailed off as Sam ran back through the woods, not seeming to hear their protests. “Help.” They finished, more to themselves than to Sam. Sighing heavily, they began to trudge after him. However, after just a few steps Y/N stopped dead in their tracks. They cocked their head slightly, listening intently. The sounds of forest nightlife had entirely faded away; gone were the peeper frogs, the buzz of insects, the call of nocturnal birds. Everything was just… silent.  
  
That was, until there came the crashing of something running through the trees towards them.

~ ~ ~

“Hello, boys?” Crowley called as he slowly walked through the bunker’s library. “Kitten?” He paused, stopping to swivel on his heels slightly. “Anyone?”  
  
Getting no response but the echo of his own voice, he let out a small exasperated breath and looked over the newspapers sprawled out across the room’s largest table. He furrowed his brow as he scanned the article circled in black sharpie, which described a series of disappearances. While normally Crowley couldn’t stand the state of disarray he so often found the bunker in, he had to admit that sometimes it did work to his advantage. Smiling to himself, he disappeared.  
  
It was surprisingly easy to locate the motel room where the hunters were staying -- but then again, a small troop of FBI agents couldn’t be expected to be exactly the most inconspicuous group. Once he had gotten their room number from the receptionist and removed himself from immediate sight, Crowley teleported himself inside. As per usual, the decor was far from lavish, but it seemed a little larger than their usual accommodations. Taking in the three duffel bags arranged about the room, he quickly realized that it was because they had a third member.  
  
Not just any third member, no. A mix of interest and concern growing within him, the demon’s eyes alighted upon an open notebook resting atop one of the unmade beds. It was undoubtedly Y/N’s handwriting. He quickly made his way over to it and skimmed over the information written there. In the hunter’s usual style of note-taking, the facts were laid out in a large block, accompanied by a shorter, more personal note. Crowley’s worry only heightened as he took in the details of the case and Y/N’s expressed feeling of unease with the conclusion the hunters had ended up coming to.  
  
“Bollocks,” He muttered. Hesitating for only a moment in order to mentally locate the forest which the entry stated they’d be going to, Crowley vanished.

~ ~ ~

The creature before Y/N fit the description, alright. He appeared to be a tall, albeit unnaturally hairy old man; however, he moved like a wild animal. With every loping step he took towards them, they had to scurry several more away from him, and even then they didn’t seem fast enough. In an attempt to turn and sprint away, Y/N felt their ankle catch on a root protruding from the forest floor. They landed on their back with a heavy thud.  
  
He was so close, now, that they could see the spittle in his greenish beard.  
  
The man -- no, the thing -- leant over them, taking only a second to rake his dull eyes over their small, frightened form before gripping them harshly on their upper arm. Without realizing it, Y/N had started screaming, but they were quickly silenced by his other hand, which wrapped itself around their mouth. His incredibly rough skin felt and smelled like bark.  
  
As he began to drag them through the undergrowth, a sudden spike of fear and adrenaline shot through Y/N, prompting them to kick up at him. With a mix between a groan and a scream the creature momentarily loosened its grip on them, allowing them a moment to frantically scramble away from him. However, this small victory was short-lived, and as soon as he had regained his balance he ran at them. Long, claw-like fingernails tore into their shoulder as he turned them once more onto their back.  
  
Y/N let out a strangled shriek as nails tore through their t-shirt and into their abdomen, blood bubbling up through the lacerated flesh. They squeezed their eyes shut as their cry was once more stifled by his sweaty palm. They could feel his hot breath on their face, the stench of rotten meat filling their nostrils. In a moment of wild clarity, Y/N thought to themselves: I am about to die.  
  
But just when they were sure that the final, fatal blow would come raining down upon them, an altogether different sensation overcame them; the feeling of a weight being ripped off of their body. There was no sound to accompany this action. Just a sudden loss.  
  
It was so unexpected, Y/N didn’t even open their eyes until a hand came down to grip their shoulder. With a quiet yelp they jerked away in pain, eyes fluttering open as they did so.  
  
“Hey, shh,” Came a calming voice. It took a moment for Y/N to register the fact that Crowley was kneeling beside them, looking down at them worriedly. “It’s alright, darling. I’ve got you.”  
  
“He--” Y/N began, voice weak.  
  
“He’s gone. I dealt with him,” Crowley quickly reassured them, gaze flicking down at their stomach before returning to their face. “I’m going to take you home, alright?”  
  
“The boys,” They persisted.  
  
“They do this sort of thing for a living, I’m sure they can handle themselves,” He replied, breaking eye contact as he maneuvered his hands under their limp body. He stopped when their hand came up to grasp at his tie, forcing him to return their gaze.  
  
“They’re in danger.”  
  
For a second, he said nothing. Then, he let out a breath and raised his brows a little. “If you insist. You’ll have to stand, though.”  
  
Y/N simply nodded, letting him help them their feet. For a moment, they nearly slipped and came crashing down again, but strong arms quickly wrapped around Y/N’s back and pulled them to Crowley’s side. They didn’t protest, leaning heavily into his chest. For an instant they felt everything shift around the two of them, letting their eyelids fall shut with the sudden wave of nausea that accompanied the movement.  
  
They quickly found that, even with the added support of Crowley’s body, the searing pain in their shoulder and, more prominently, their midriff, made it hard to focus on what was going on around them. Y/N was only somewhat aware of Crowley snapping his fingers and ending the life of another of the strange creatures, which had been attacking Sam and Dean. Only through the rumbling of his chest did they realize that he was having a conversation with the two men, and only by one of Dean’s comments causing his grip on their body to tighten that the hunters weren’t happy with his presence. However, the discussion quickly left Y/N’s mind as their wound began to throb.  
  
“Crowley,” They whimpered, barely loud enough for him to hear. The demon looked down at them, and, after delivering a curt good-bye to the boys, the world once more shifted around them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tends to Y/N's wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Another content warning! This chapter contains some description of the wounds dealt in the previous chapter, and talk of needles and stitching.

The motion sickness came on with much more strength after the second teleportation, which took the two of them to the library of the bunker. When Y/N’s knees began to buckle from the mix of queasiness and pain flowing through their body, Crowley hefted them up bridal-style, with no protest on their end. He quickly made his way to their bedroom, where he laid them down on their bed.  
  
Confused by the sudden change in material beneath them, Y/N blinked their eyes open. After realizing where they were, their gaze quickly shifted to Crowley, who stood by their bed. At the moment he was hurriedly taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, an action that would have, had Y/N not been in a tremendous amount of pain at that moment, made them blush considerably. Once he had hung his jacket off the end of their bed, the demon swiftly brought over their desk chair and sat down, facing Y/N. With a vague wave of his hand, a tray of medical supplies appeared on their bedside table.  
  
“We’re going to get you all fixed up, alright, darling?” Crowley said, scooting the chair further towards the bed. “Let’s start with taking a look at those wounds.”  
  
Eyelids heavy, Y/N watched as he rolled up their t-shirt’s sleeve to glance over the claw marks in their shoulder. He didn’t seem all too bothered by them, quickly moving on to their abdomen. However, once he pulled up the heavily blood-stained fabric, his brow knotted in concern. Y/N couldn’t really see without craning their neck, an exertion of energy which seemed far out of reach. Instead, they let their head sink fully back into their pillow and let out a nervous chuckle. “That bad?”  
  
“No, no, not in the long run,” He answered, glancing back at their face. “With the proper care, it’ll heal. Might take a while, but I suppose those are the consequences of the job. I will need to stitch these up, though. How do you feel about needles?”  
  
Y/N closed their eyes, frowning as they responded. “I hate them.”  
  
Crowley tsked, reaching over to the tray. “Sorry to hear that. But, don’t worry -- I’ll be gentle.”  
  
The hunter reopened a narrowed eye to look over at the demon, who shot them a playful wink. They laughed lightly, moving their good arm up so that their forearm lay over their eyes. “You’re awful.”  
  
“I try,” He replied, putting a hand just below the wounds on their shoulder. “I’m going to put some numbing gel on this, wash the wound a little, and then I’ll start stitching you up, alright?”  
  
They didn’t respond as another pulse of pain surged through their body, causing them to wince slightly. Noticing this, Crowley gave their shoulder a small pat before beginning the process he described. Y/N wasn’t sure if they were lucky or not that they were too distracted by the agony in their stomach to pay any mind to the needle poking in and out of their shoulder, but nevertheless, the demon’s work on the smaller wounds soon seemed to be finished with. Carefully he put a gauze dressing over the stitches and moved his concentration to their midriff.  
  
The pressure from Crowley’s hand as he began to once more apply the numbing gel sent another wave of pain through Y/N. They gasped, clenching their fists. The demon hesitated for a moment, hand hovering over their wound. “Try and focus on your breathing, kitten. You’re all right.”  
  
They nodded weakly, following his advice as he began to move his hand over their sensitive flesh. Once the gel began to work its magic, though, Y/N felt themselves loosening up a little. They slid their forearm so that it rested upon their forehead, and looked over to Crowley. His expression was hardened in concentration as he worked to suture their wounds. After a little while he noticed their staring, meeting their gaze for a moment before continuing with the task at hand.  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
“Fine,” They muttered. “Well, no. Bad, I guess. Tired.”  
  
He hummed a little in response, deftly snipping the last bit of thread as he did so. “Let’s sit you up so I can put this last bandage on you, yeah?”  
  
With some strain on their part, Crowley helped Y/N move so that they were sitting up on their bed, the only thing holding them from falling back should their strength give way being the demon’s arm around their back. They let out a small sigh as he wrapped the fabric around their lower torso, using a safety pin to secure the end. Once he had finished, he let them lay back down, softly brushing his knuckles over their cheek once they had settled back down.  
  
“You get some rest now, alright?” He said, voice quiet.  
  
“Wait,” Y/N grasped onto his wrist as his hand left their face, grimacing slightly at the strain it brought to their shoulder. “Um…” They paused, face beginning to flush as Crowley looked down at them expectantly. “What… Those weren’t ghosts in the woods, were they?”  
  
As Y/N’s grip on his wrist loosened, they let their hand fall to rest lightly on their stomach, Crowley’s own following their lead and laying on top of theirs. “No, they weren’t. They were leshii, a type of Slavic forest spirit.” The demon took a moment to look away before continuing. “When I dropped by your motel to discuss some follow-up business concerning Abaddon, I saw your notes on the case. Reading the description, as well as your own insights, I realized that you were right,” He glanced back at them. “About being uncertain with the ghost theory, that is. You all had no idea what you were walking into.” He smirked a little. “So, as usual, I had to come by and save the day.”  
  
“Oh,” They blinked, laughing a little at his last remark. If they were to be perfectly honest with themselves, they hadn’t even questioned Crowley’s presence in the woods -- it had just felt… natural.  
  
“You really should get some sleep, though, kitten,” Crowley interjected, pulling them out of their thoughts. “You’ve had a long night.”  
  
As if on cue, Y/N let out a large yawn and sunk further down into the mattress. “Could you, um… Get a blanket from the closet? I don’t feel like moving under the covers.”  
  
He lightly squeezed their hand. “Of course.” They smiled thankfully and finally gave their eyes a rest. After Crowley had done as they’d asked, making sure to lay the blanket over them so that their whole body was covered, he left their room and made his way to the library. Sam and Dean would soon return from Jetmore, and when they did, he was going to have a nice, friendly discussion with them about the dangers of half-assing a case.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale.

Crowley sat on his throne as one of his many underlings droned on before him. He was sure that if he thought about it for long enough he’d be able to remember their name, but at the moment, he didn’t care enough to. The reports were always the same, the only difference being the numbers, but those were falling further and further out of interest for Crowley as of late. It’d been over a week since he’d left Y/N in the bunker after tending their wounds, and he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to visit them since. Yet another rogue sect of demons had sprung up in Hell, a problem which had required immediate and thorough attention. But now it was over with, and still he found himself bored to pieces regarding the more underwhelming affairs of Hell. He didn’t really care how many souls they were pulling in each week; it never seemed to matter in the long run.  
  
The buzzing of Crowley’s cell phone came as a welcome interruption, even more so when he read the caller ID shining up at him. Lifting a hand, he silenced the demon mid-sentence and picked up the call, holding the phone up to his ear. “Hello, kitten.”  
  
“Hey Crowley,” Y/N responded on the other end. “How, uh… How’s Hell?”  
  
“Oh, boring as usual.” Crowley smirked as the demon’s face fell. “How’s the bunker?”  
  
“Not that interesting either,” They laughed lightly. “But, y’know, I keep myself occupied. So…” Y/N cleared their throat. “So you’re not busy then?”  
  
“Not with anything that can’t be postponed. Why, did you have something in mind?” He glanced back at the demon, whose expression had by now turned to one of frustration, and gestured for them to leave.  
  
“Oh, not really. I just… well, I’ve had this bottle of Craig lying around for a while, and I was going to open it up by myself, but I remembered that Sam mentioned it was one of your favorites, and with the boys out on a hunt…” They paused. “I don’t know, I thought you might want to share.”  
  
“I’d be delighted to. I’ve got a few matters to finish up, but I’ll be over in a few minutes. Talk to you then, darling.”  
  
“See you,” Y/N replied and hung up. Crowley smiled down at the black screen; finally.

~ ~ ~

Y/N was standing at one of the library’s several tables, two glasses and a bottle of Craig set down atop it. They were leaning forwards slightly, both palms pressed against the cool wooden surface, fingers tapping absentmindedly. Crowley would be arriving any second now, and the anticipation was messing with their nerves. For what felt like the billionth time they took a look around the room, only to once more find it empty .  
  
Body still twisted to their right, Y/N paused and let out a sigh. Maybe the business he needed to wrap up was taking longer than he’d thought it would. Maybe something else had come up. Maybe he simply wouldn’t come.  
  
“Something troubling you, darling?”  
  
Y/N turned quickly, the movement causing a sting of pain in their still somewhat tender stomach. Crowley was standing directly to their left, amusement glimmering in his eyes.  
  
“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” They huffed, furrowing their brow slightly.  
  
He merely grinned before looking down at the table. “Shall I pour our drinks?”  
  
“Sure,” They said before pulling out one of the chairs and taking a seat. After he’d finished with the drinks and slid one over to Y/N, Crowley did the same.  
  
“Cheers,” He said, raising his glass. “To your health. I take it you’re feeling better?”  
  
“Yes, very much so,” They smiled and lifted their own, clinking them before taking a sip. “Thank you for helping me. Well,” They paused, looking down at the scotch thoughtfully. “For saving my life, really.”  
  
“No need to thank me, love. All in a day’s work,” He winked at them. They averted their gaze, laughing a little. He raised a brow expectantly. “What’s so funny?”  
  
“Crowley, you’re the King of Hell,” Y/N glanced up at him, and something in their expression shifted. “It’s not ‘all in a day’s work’. It’s the opposite, really. I may not exactly be a hunter, but -- I mean, I work with the Winchesters of all people. So…” Their smile faded. “Why?”  
  
“Well…” Crowley started, but he’d found that the words had dried up in his throat. The way Y/N was looking at him, it was as if they were pleading with him. Begging him to say… to say what? He cleared his throat. “You… intrigue me, Y/N.” When they didn’t respond, he proceded. “You’re right, you’re not a hunter, and you’re nothing like those bloody Winchesters. And yet here you are, working with them, helping them however you can. Thrusting yourself into a dangerous life that tends to end only in bloodshed, something you’ve experienced firsthand.”  
  
“I want to help people,” Y/N interjected, but their tone was soft.  
  
“That much is clear, but Y/N, I’m not ‘people’.” He kept his eyes locked on theirs. “I’m a demon. The King of Hell, as you pointed out yourself, but you still treated me with kindness, right from the very beginning.” He laid an elbow on the table, resting his cheek against his hand as he watched Y/N. “Why?”  
  
“I mean, I’d just met you. I didn’t know you, I wasn’t about to be rude,” Y/N reasoned.  
  
“The Winchesters would’ve been, after learning my occupation. In fact, they were, if I recall correctly.” He smiled, almost sadly. “You know demons don’t express emotions, don’t you?”  
  
Y/N broke eye contact, looking down at their hands which lay in their lap, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. “I always kind of thought that was a little exaggerated.” They frowned. “But I guess I wouldn’t know.”  
  
“That’s another reason why you’ve fascinated me,” Crowley continued. They shifted their gaze to meet his. “I can’t quite explain why or how, but for whatever reason, I’ve found that with you…” Leaning forwards a little, he raised his other hand and brushed it over Y/N’s cheek. “It’s different. I’m different.” He paused in thought. “I feel when I’m with you, Y/N. Do you have any idea how strange that is?”  
  
They blinked at him incredulously. “I don’t understand. You--”  
  
“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same way, kitten. I just thought you should know.” Crowley looked away, beginning to remove his hand from their cheek. But before he could, Y/N clutched it in their own, drawing his focus once more.  
  
“No,” They blurted. “No, I…” They found their eyes darting around the room, their mind unable to find the right words for what they so desperately wanted to say to the demon sitting before them. But the feeling of his hand on their skin kept them grounded. “I do. Feel the same way, I mean.”  
  
They looked into his eyes. Suddenly they realized how close the two of them were -- they’d both subconsciously been leaning in towards each other this whole time, and now they could almost feel one another’s breath.  
  
“May I?” Crowley asked, voice quiet.  
  
Y/N simply nodded.  
  
The hand on their cheek slipped further back to cup the back of their head, pulling their lips to his. The kiss was warm and gentle; not quite what Y/N had been expecting from a powerful demon, but it was welcome nonetheless. His scruff rubbed against their cheek lightly, leaving a faint burning sensation as he pulled away.  
“Darling…” He muttered against their lips. “I’ve been wanting to do that for quite a while now.”  
  
“Is that so?” Y/N smiled playfully. “Then why don’t you do it again?”  
  
“Happily,” Crowley replied, tugging them towards him. Just as they began to kiss again, the sound of a ringtone came from Y/N’s back pocket. They leant back a little, shooting Crowley an apologetic glance as they did so. Taking the phone out of their pocket they glanced down at it.  
  
“It’s Sam,” They sighed and picked up. “Hello?”  
  
“Hey, Y/N. How’re you doing?”  
  
“Good, y’know. Same ol’, same ol’.” Crowley rolled his eyes dramatically, forcing them to stifle a giggle. “How’s the hunt going?”  
  
“Good, good. Definitely a vampire nest. It’ll take us a few more days to clear it all up.” He paused. “Say, Y/N… Crowley hasn’t dropped by, has he?”  
  
They felt their heart drop. Turning slightly from Crowley, they frowned. “Crowley?” In their periphery they could see the demon’s brow furrow as he heard his name. “No, why?”  
  
“Well, this is the first time you’ve been alone in the bunker since you were attacked.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“I just…” He sighed. “Dean and I have been talking, and… Y/N, we don’t know what he wants from you.”  
  
“What do you mean? He saved my life,” Y/N replied, trying their best to sound calm. However, Crowley clearly wasn’t believing it, and scooted his seat a little closer to them.  
  
“Exactly. He had no reason to do that. He might use this to ask you or us for some favor or something in return, I don’t know.”  
  
“I--” They exhaled sharply. “Maybe he was just being nice.”  
  
“I know you like to see the good in people, Y/N, but he’s the King of Hell. Just, if he does show up--”  
  
“Give me the phone,” Crowley said quietly, one hand outstretched. Y/N frowned at him, but didn’t move to do as he’d said.  
  
“Y/N? Are you with someone?” Sam asked, voice laced with concern.  
  
“No, it’s just the TV.” Y/N replied, but there was no hiding the nervousness in their tone now.  
  
“Y/N,” Crowley insisted.  
  
“Who’s with you? Is it Crowley? Y/N, if you need help, just--”  
  
“No, Sam, I’m alright, I promise.” They took a moment, closing their eyes. “I… Sam, you trust me, right?”  
  
“Of course I do, Y/N, but--”  
  
“Then trust me when I say that I trust him.” They reopened their eyes, staring down at the table. Laying their free hand on the wooden surface, they saw that it was trembling. Quickly, Crowley held it with his own.  
  
Sam was silent for a moment. “You’re not going to change your mind about this, are you?”  
  
“No, probably not.”  
  
“Listen. I…” Faintly, Y/N could hear a door closing on the other end, accompanied by a voice. “I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk about this when Dean and I get back, okay?”  
  
Y/N furrowed their brow. “Okay.”  
  
There was a click, and then nothing. Y/N placed the phone on the table and looked back at Crowley. He squeezed their hand lightly, a concerned look on his face.  
  
“What’d he say?”  
  
They let out a long breath, turning their head to better face him. “That we’ll talk more when they’re here. They don’t even…” They swallowed. “They’re already so upset, and they don’t even know that--”  
  
“Darling, listen to me,” Crowley moved towards them a little, tilting his head slightly as he did so. “It’s going to be alright. If they’ve got any sense at all in their heads, they’ll listen to you.” He glanced at their interlaced fingers. “And if they don’t, I’ll handle them. You don’t have to worry.”  
  
“You’ll be here? When they get back?”  
  
“Of course, kitten,” He smiled softly. When their worried expression didn’t shift, he tugged their hand gently. “Come here.”  
  
Y/N leant forwards, letting him wrap them in his arms as he pulled them in for a hug. Resting their head against him, they closed their eyes, letting themselves be soothed by the rising and falling of his chest.  
  
“Everything’s going to be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you all so much for reading! This is the last chapter of this story. I wanted to leave it a little bit open-ended for y’all to think about what might happen next! I’m definitely planning on writing some more fanfics in the future (probably more crowley x reader lol), so look forward to that. See y’all then :]


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